


So Long Lives This and This Gives Life to Thee

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Will (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, Developing Relationship, Drowning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Richard appears briefly, Richard is a good friend, Suicide Attempt, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: When Will goes to meet Kit at a nearby lake he finds himself attempting to save the life of the man he could love.This is an alternate version of "Cut Is the Branch That Might Have Grown Full Straight" with a happy outcome and shippy resolution. (see notes)





	So Long Lives This and This Gives Life to Thee

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cut Is the Branch That Might Have Grown Full Straight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989042) by [meridian_rose (meridianrose)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose). 



> I write a lot of angst and h/c but I don't write a lot of character death. The darkfic prompt pushed me out of my comfort zone and I'm really proud of "Cut Is the Branch That Might Have Grown Full Straight". However I couldn't be satisfied to leave things that way, so this is the alternate version with a happy ending.  
> If you've read the dark fic, you can skip along for about half the fic :)
> 
> The title is from Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare.

Will's phone beeped. He glanced at it almost absent-mindedly. A message from Kit. "Need a break? I'm at the park."

It was after dark but why not, Will decided. They might as well have writer's block together. Not that Will was really blocked, just stuck writing the resolution to his latest play. It would come, he was certain. Kit on the other hand hadn't written in what was now months rather than weeks and he'd grown irritable, melancholy in quieter moments with Will, overly enthusiastic in public to hide his frustration.

Will stuffed his hands deeper into his coat pockets as he walked. He had hoped the chill winter air would help stimulate him, body and mind, but it wasn't having the desired effect. The stars were beautiful in the clear sky but tonight they gave him no inspiration.

The park sat around a lake which was crossed by a steel bridge. In the moonlight the water was still and dark, reflecting the waxing crescent. Will kept to the path, avoiding the frost-covered grass, and looked around. He was about to call Kit and see where he was when he spotted a dark figure leaning on the railing of the bridge.

Will raised a hand in greeting, assuming it was Kit. The person's head was staring down at the water though and they gave no sign of seeing him. Will jogged towards the bridge, losing sight of it behind a stand of trees.

There was a splash. Will frowned. There were ducks in the park but they tended not to be active at night, not likely to be fighting. Had the person on the bridge dropped something into the water? It would have to have been something heavy.

Later he wondered at the inanity, the normalcy, of his thoughts. And at how he'd acted with practicality despite his horror when he realised that the figure was no longer on the bridge.

"Kit?" Will looked around. "Kit?"

The lake. Will hesitated but there were ripples on the surface and surely whoever had been on the bridge was now in the water. They needed rescuing, surely, whether or not they were Kit. And if it was Kit then Will was going to kill him for this.

Will kicked off his shoes and tossed aside his coat. He waded into the freezing water, gasping in shock as his trousers soaked through immediately and the cold robbed him of his breath. He gasped, called out. "Kit?"

He was mid-chest deep in the frigid lake when he found the body, grabbed at the dark coat and pulled, towing the lifeless victim to the shore.

Will stumbled onto the grass, laid the body flat on their back. He didn't want to see what he already knew, deep down. The unmistakable blond hair and sharp features, the tangled necklaces against the pale skin, the beringed and tattooed fingers.

"Kit!" Will leaned over, checked for a pulse. Nothing. He tipped Kit's head back, step one, clear the airway, he'd done a class - Richard had insisted they go because he'd got a crush on the CPR instructor. Will had never been so glad of one of Richard's dalliances before this moment.

Will reached for his phone because he had a vague idea that in fact that was step one. With fingers shaking from cold and terror he managed to call for help and told them yes, he knew CPR and yes, he'd do it until the paramedics arrived.

"Shit," Will said, returned his focus to Kit. What the hell, why? Later, that was a problem for later. Save his life first, demand answers after.

One more desperate check but no, Kit wasn't breathing, skin drained of colour, lips a bluish-purple. Will tried not to think of the first time Kit's lips had been on his, that rough, teasing kiss. He didn't want the memory soured as he pressed his mouth over Kit's, a kiss without warmth or response. Two breaths.

When there was no response, he knew had to move on to compressions. Will flung aside Kit's coat, tore open the dark shirt, scattering black buttons and exposing the pale skin with the myriad tattoos. He interlocked his fingers. Below and between the tattoos of the skull and the black bleeding heart, using the heel of his hand, elbows straight, pressing down about two inches. 

One, two, three, what song was he supposed to be chanting? Staying Alive, ironic, right. Rhythm was important. Will tried to focus on the words and not on the fact that he held Kit's life in his hands, or under his hands or something...

Kit wanted to live or he'd not have sent the message. If he wanted to die, if this was this plan, then why call Will here at all? Was it one of his irresponsible gambles, live or die depending on the odds of Will showing up, risking everything on the off-chance of Will saving him? Was Kit that desperate, that torn apart by his inability to write? It wouldn't be the first time he'd done something reckless, chasing meaning and inspiration and answers to questions no-one could answer.

Will gave a sob of frustration. His arms were tiring. He'd lost track of the song, caught up in his thoughts. Kit's body moved beneath Will's hands, chest forced in and belly out, but his eyes were still closed and there was no sign of life.

"Kit, come on, please!" Will was no longer counting in his desperation but he wasn't going to stop to give another breath anyway. The compressions were the important thing, he just had to keep going until someone told him to stop. He worried he was going to crack a rib and puncture a lung even as he worried that if he hadn't cracked any ribs he wasn't pressing hard enough.

It was less than ten minutes before help arrived but it felt like hours and Will was exhausted, half-frozen and sobbing as he moved back to let the paramedics work.

He managed to call Richard, the words seeming unreal even as he watched the scene before him. The paramedics could do more than he'd been able to, IV line and drugs, intubation, defibrillation. Will winced as the electricity surged through Kit's body.

"Stay where you are," Richard urged. "I'm on my way."

And so Will did, watched the ambulance leave, sirens blaring. Richard arrived, breathless, held Will close to warm and comfort him.

In their favour was the freezing temperature. Brain function would be preserved by extreme cold. In fact it was likely it was the shock of entering the cold water that had stopped Kit's heart and not drowning. Also in their favour was Will's immediate response and the rapid arrival of the paramedics.

But Will knew he could still lose Kit, that there could be complications, that there could be brain damage. He could hardly bear to think of that. It would be worse than death, to have saved Kit only to damn him to a life devoid of his treasured intellect and wit.

"What if he's not Kit anymore?" he wept, clutching a barely tasted bottled beer while Richard sat with one hand on his knee. "What if I ought to have just let him die?"

"You couldn't. I couldn't have. Anyone would have done the same in your position," Richard said. "Have hope. Have faith."

Will tried. He prayed fervently, barely slept, wept often. He wasn't family, hadn't been allowed into the ICU, though he didn't want to visit anyway. That night haunted him enough; to see Kit still barely alive was more than he could bear. He waited as if for a coin, tossed carelessly, to land and decide Kit's fate.

They got lucky.

*

"Hey," Will said, moving to sit at Kit's beside. "You look like hell."

It was true. Better than when last he'd seen him yet still paler than usual and with dark shadows beneath his eyes. Yet Will was reassured by the wry smile, the recognition in Kit's eyes.

"I'm told you saved me."

Will nodded. All his words left him. He reached for Kit's hand, took it in both of his. It was a struggle to keep his emotions in check.

"Will?"

"Did you want me to?" Will kept his eyes downcast. It struck him as odd that Kit was not wearing his jewellery, and wondered what it meant that he hadn't demanded it back yet. Wondered if Kit's family might have let him keep one of the rings as a memento if things had gone differently.

"What?"

Will swallowed, forced himself to meet Kit's gaze. "Did you want me to save you? Did you want to live? Was what happened an accident or were you trying to kill yourself?"

Kit glanced away. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Kit lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I've always lived on the edge," he said.

"I know. And I know you've been struggling. But Kit..."

"I didn't see anything," Kit said suddenly. "Not heaven. Not hell. Nothing."

Will squeezed at Kit's hand. "You seem disappointed. I thought that's what you believed. That there's nothing."

"I was willing to be persuaded otherwise."

"Maybe you weren't dead enough or for long enough."

Kit gave a soft chuckle, winced. He shook his head when Will looked concerned. In a more serious tone he said, "I'm glad you saved me."

"Good. And know that I cannot go through that again."

"Will." Kit pressed his fingers against Will's.

Will released Kit's hand. "Promise me."

Kit nodded, which was probably about as good as Will would get. His eyes closed for a moment. When he forced them back open he asked, "Would you come and see me tomorrow?"

"Of course." Will leaned over and brushed Kit's hair back from his forehead. He rested his palm on Kit's cheek, warm and quite unlike the last memory he'd had of touching him. "Rest. Heal. I'll be back before you know it."

*

It was several weeks later and spring was in full bloom as Will and Kit strolled around the park. Kit had insisted on coming here. For him it represented closure. For Will, who'd avoided the place since that fateful night, it was the reopening of an old wound.

"Here?" Kit asked, pausing at a particular spot.

Will spread his hands. "I think more here." He moved a few steps to the side and toward the lake.

"I don't remember any of it." Kit crouched to brush his fingers across the grass as if might hold his lost memories.

"I remember it all." Will shook his head but the images stayed. Dark and cold, full of fear and panic. Not at all like today's sunshine with Kit at his side, but he was shaking again, balling up his hands into fists to try and control himself. He couldn't lift his hand to wipe at the sudden tears.

Kit stood and moved to put one hand on his shoulder. "Will." He ran the knuckles of his other hand softly across Will's cheek. "I'm sorry, Will."

Then Kit grasped Will's face between his palms and kissed him. The touch of his lips obliterated, at least for now, Will's remembrance of the kiss of life. 

Will was stunned and then grateful. He did not pull away, nor did he lean in for more when Kit drew back.

Then Kit wrapped Will in a hug, rubbing at his back while Will rested his head on his Kit's shoulder.

"I love you," Will said softly. "Please, Kit. Don't leave me. Not like that."

"I promise." Kit pressed a kiss to Will's hair. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink."

"After what you put me through you're buying me drinks the rest of your life," Will said. Kit laughed and they walked, arm in arm, away from the lake.


End file.
